


Savoy Truffle

by goodnightfern (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Literal tooth rotting fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day, dean/food, drug references, hunter husbands, too much candy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 22:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5982364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/goodnightfern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean didn't even realize it was nearly Valentine's day but for those damn roses. Whatever. There's only one reason left for him to care about the holiday, and that's the day after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savoy Truffle

**Author's Note:**

> [Destiel Valentines MiniBang](http://destielvalentinesminibang.tumblr.com/)

There's a prominent display of plastic roses in glass tubes near the register because drug culture thrives even in the quaintest Midwestern towns. You want to get a handle on a neighborhood, you don't look at the pristine yards and picket fences, you go to the mini-mart. The roses aren't even in a glass display case with the other covert drug paraphernalia - in fact, there isn't much else around. No 'tobacco' pipes, mysterious tubs of incense, not even socks or shoelaces. Guess they keep it simple here. Dean looks to give Sam a knowing smirk but he's too busy trying to find the jerky strips with the most cracked pepper to notice. Castiel is already picking up the slender glass tubes and stroking the furl of the bowl around the flower. Dean bites his tongue, not wanting to say anything in front of the cashier.

The roses are three for a dollar. "On special," the cashier says, grin a little too knowing for Dean to be comfortable. Cas picks up and fiddles with every single one before settling on purple, yellow, and green. Apparently roses come in green now. Finally Sam shows up with his precious jerky selection quirking an eyebrow at the roses on the counter. Dean just nods to Cas with an eyeroll, _fucking angels._

Dean waits until they're back outside before tugging Cas by the sleeve to stage-whisper in his ear. "You know those flowers are just an excuse to sell crack pipes?"

"I thought these looked familiar," Cas says, squinting at the little rose in his hand, and shame stabs Dean right in the fucking gut. Right. Cas spent enough time in shelters to know a drug pipe when he sees one. "But... tis the season?"

"To smoke crack?"

"Valentine's Day. Exchanging flowers to loved ones, yes? This must be the one time of year these roses get any appreciation." Twirling the tube of the green rose in his fingers, he sticks it in the front pocket of Dean's shirt. Before Dean gets mushy about it Cas is handing Sam the purple rose with a goofy solemnity. The yellow one goes in his own coat pocket. Probably saving it to stick in the A/C vents of the Continental.

"Oh yeah - it's the thirteenth today, huh?" Sam's grinning over his dumbass flower. "Thanks, Cas."

Great, so they can spend Valentine's Day chopping off some vamp heads in true Winchester romantic style. Not that Dean had any ideas. He and Cas can go out for surf-n-turf or whatever any time they damn well please. Save the fancy holiday dinners for the normal people. Dean shakes his head, shooing his dorky family into the car. "Well, we got two days to prepare," he says.

"Prepare for what?" Cas asks.

Sam rolls his eyes. "Dude, you don't even wanna -"

Dean cuts him off because this is the one legitimate reason to give a crap about the holiday. Forget the pink cards, candlelit dinners, the unrelenting pressure. The last thing Cas needs is a card with a cartoon angel or a bunch of roses covered in pesticides.

"The candy, Cas." Dean's tone drops to something reverent. "All the chocolate you could ever dream of and it's all half off. Sometimes even seventy five. Last day-after-Valentines, man, I got six boxes of marshmallow peeps for fifty cents. Fifty cents. I mean, post Valentine's is the one time when you can get all those mystery chocolate boxes for real cheap. They stick like thirty different flavors in one box. Now, the first two weeks of February, it's all overpriced, but the stores always stock way more than what they actually sell. If you can get it two days after the prices are even better, but most of the good shit's been snapped up."

"Yeah, it's all the shitty cardboard chocolate," Sam mutters. Dean shoots him a glare like, _wow, can we not with the party pooping?_

Cas just looks nonplussed in the back seat. "So... discount candy? That's how you celebrate a holiday dedicated to love?"

"S'better than a god damn crackpipe rose," Dean grins and slams down the gas pedal all the way to Pittsfield.

 

* * *

 

Turns out it's not vamps. Vamps would've been easy, but no, it's fucking amalanhig, and in the end Sam's the one who has to root through the intestines of the disemboweled creature looking for the black regeneration stone to make sure those fuckers never come back. Dean's too busy dealing with broken glass inside his coat because he still had the damn rose in his shirt pocket when the alpha threw him against the wall. Across the basement Cas peels himself up from the floor, blood flowing from his neck, and stumbles his way over to Dean. At least these guys don't infect with their bite but it's still nauseating to see the marks in Castiel's neck. Two puncture wounds, right over his collarbone. Wincing, Dean reaches up into a powerful fireman's grip but ends up dragging Cas down with him.

"Oh, Dean," Cas says, and Dean will never get used to how much raw emotion Cas can pack into a single syllable. "Don't get up, don't get up, you're bleeding."

"So are you," Dean garbles around the blood in his mouth. His neck makes a worrying grinding sound. Damn, but he's too old to be running around getting thrown into walls anymore. Cas just yanks at his clothes, picking at the glass. When he finds the rose, nearly snapped in half and smeared with blood, Cas tries to hide a throaty chuckle in Dean's coat. "Nuh-uh, don't throw it away." Dean swats at the scrap of plastic dangling from Cas's hand, only falling back when he shims it in the front pocket of Dean's jeans.

"It's safe," Cas promises. Their foreheads knock against each other, jarring and painful. Cas's thumb comes up to swipe the blood at Dean's mouth. Dean kisses his palm because he can and while this thing between them is still wobbly it's something to lean on. A smile breaks across Castiel's face and his other hand comes up to cradle Dean's jaw. His lips are chapped on Dean's temple, brushing his sweaty hair.

Even a damn plastic rose is a safety hazard. This is just how it is with them. _Happy Valentine's Day, babe, I sharpened your machete for you._ Dean can't help it, he's laughing, and Cas just shakes his head and stares down at Dean like he's something wonderful.

"You guys okay?" Sam's flipping the regeneration stone in his hand, looking down with a smile halfway between sappy and embarrassed. Big fucking bastard somehow managed to avoid the amalanhig's bite. Good for Sam. Meanwhile Cas and Dean are a fucking mess. Woozy from blood loss, tripping over their own feet, but Sam's big enough for the both of them. Sam grunts under their combined weight, somehow managing to drag their asses all the way back to the car, and then out of the car and into their room. The rest of Valentine's Day is a haze of whiskey and stitches and Cas ranting about exactly how much blood the human body can lose and that the emergency room is not necessary, thank you very much Sam. Dean just swallows the crackers Sam shoves in his mouth, drinks half a liter of soda, and passes the fuck out.

He wakes to a red heart-shaped box the size of his head dropping on his chest.

"Dude," Sam is saying, "I stitched up both your asses, and all I get is the candy apple?"

"As much as I appreciate you, Sam, you are not my valentine." Cas is smiling distantly, picking at the bandage on his neck. Glancing down at Dean, his eyes soften. He taps the box with a forefinger. "Seventy-five cents."

"Proud of you," Dean says, and Cas beams.

Thirty six pieces of chocolate. Only twelve flavors, so there's enough for everyone to try one. There's coconut cream, caramel, some fluffy mint, truffled dark chocolate, peanut butter. One unassuming dark square turns out to have some sort of fucking neon sludge inside that only Cas enjoys. Sam slices his marshmallow-studded apple up on a paper plate. Perched on a muddled pink bedspread, they eat candy until they get nauseous. And that's not even all. For less than five bucks, Cas managed to stuff four grocery bags with candy. They're all tucked under the motel table like a secret. Sam looks like he wants to hurl when Cas displays his haul.

"It's so much." Sam sounds weak. "I'm gonna. Ugh. I'm gonna go get us some protein, or.... something. Real food." He lurches out of the room with a hand clenched at his stomach.

"You did good, Cas," Dean reassures. "Man, I could almost go for some of those Peeps right now. You got all this stuff this morning?"

Cas still looks like he's done something wrong. With dejected eyes he's tying up the bags and shoving them out of sight in his duffel. "It's too much. I don't know... I don't know what I was thinking. This is too much."

"Hell, no it ain't. It's awesome, Cas. We're set for days here. I love it."

"I got it for you."

"Cause I'm your valentine, right?"

It's meant to be a joke but Cas looks at him and isn't.

Dean just pats the bed and waits for Cas to return to him. There's a streak of melted chocolate on Castiel's lower lip. Dean rubs it off with thumb and licks it off, loving the way Castiel stares. Then Cas leans forward, and hey, there's some caramel stuck to the edge of Dean's mouth. Cas doesn't even play, just licks it right off. Their kisses are sickening with all the high fructose corn syrup and cheap powdery chocolate, but it still tastes like Cas beneath all the processed sugar. Dean's careful on his neck, pressing light kisses around the bandaged area. He'll make it good for Cas. Make it the best. Not that they can get too wild right now with every limb aching and bandages all over the place, but Dean gives Cas everything he can and then some because he's fucking earned it.

Truth is, Cas always goes overboard when it comes to Dean. Just because he wants to, and isn't that a trip? Cas has given, Cas will keep giving, and Dean doesn't even know how to begin to repay him. All he knows is that it starts with this. Opening up for Cas. Letting him in. Holding him close. Throwing everything he can lay hands on at Cas, anything an angel could possibly want, and maybe it's hit or miss because how is Dean supposed to know what a god damned ancient cosmic wavelength could want? It shouldn't even possible for Cas to want him. For Dean to be enough.

Four giant sacks of candy. Fuck, but Dean's going to keep this forever. As long as Cas lets him.

It takes them about a week to get through all the candy, and one more until Dean finally finds all the wrappers Sam and Cas manage to lose everywhere. The purple rose goes in Sam's shoebox, the yellow lives in the driver's side vent of the Continental, but the broken green one stays in Dean's wallet.

Two months after Valentine's Day they're working a case on the foggy cliffs around Cape Neddick. Might as well go out for some genuine, fresh-caught Maine lobster. Might as well get the house specialty, work their way through two bottles of champagne on a restaurant deck overlooking the harbor, watch the sun set as the candles shudder under a clean sea breeze. They're still in their Fed suits, jackets off and sleeves rolled up and Cas's tie just askew enough to give Dean an excuse to keep touching him. When Dean pulls out Raoul Agnew's credit card for the bill Cas frowns and tugs the wallet across the table. Pulls out a flattened petal. Shakes his head, eyes crinkling.

Dean's signature ends in a thick streak of ink but the waiter gets an extra twenty for her trouble since Cas shatters two glasses trying to pull Dean across the table and into his lap. At least the night doesn't end in band-aids for everyone. That's gotta be some kind of progress.

**Author's Note:**

> (the monster mentioned is a filipino-style tweest on vampires)


End file.
